


If I Said.

by kikkimax



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/F - Category, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikkimax/pseuds/kikkimax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post TSbyBS, a trip to the beach turns into a make or break situation for Jim when he finally realizes just how much he needs Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Said.

## If I Said.

by Kikkimax

Author's website:  <http://www.fanfic.otherplaces.net/slash_fic.htm>

I don't own the characters, they own me.

This story first appeared in the zine 'Senses of Wonder' by Blackjag publishing.

Brief B/f and J/f, but nothing serious. 

* * *

If I Said... 

Jim took another long sip in a series of long sips of beer. Across the bonfire he watched the reflection of firelight dance in his partner's curly brown hair. Blair was talking animatedly with Rafe, gesturing and laughing, his voice tickled at Jim's ears, even though Jim wasn't consciously listening to the words. He let the voice itself flow over him, soothe the recent ache he felt somewhere in his heart, and quiet the new found loneliness in his soul. Blair glanced toward him as he halfway listened to Rafe's reply, his brow furrowed slightly as their eyes met. 

"What?" Blair asked sotto voce around Rafe's shoulder. 

Jim shook his head and toasted Blair briefly with his bottle and went back to drinking. Blair excused himself to their host and plodded through the sand over to his friend. Rafe waved to Jim as he headed back up the path to the house, turning in for the night. 

"What's wrong?" Blair asked more directly as he dropped down beside Jim and stretched out toward the fire. 

"I'm glad we came this weekend," Jim said, shifting his gaze to the flames. Within the last week or so Blair's eyes had become the bluest blue Jim had ever seen, and it was somehow disheartening to look at them. So much had happened, and yet Blair was still here, at his side, just where he should be. In a couple of weeks, Blair would begin his training at the academy. Somewhere inside, Jim told himself that this was what Blair wanted, what he would have chosen had he been given the opportunity. Jim had lied to himself about so many things lately, his drunken mind tried to accept it, along with everything else. 

"Yeah, me too. You really needed to get out of Cascade, man. I've never seen you stressed like this. I was getting worried," Blair confessed. "I'm glad Rafe invited us to his friend's beach house. I don't want you to do anything but rest and have fun for the next two days." 

Jim nodded. "You still care," he said softly. 

Blair wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, but the fact that it came from Jim confused him. "You know I care, Jim. Don't you?" he asked worriedly. 

With a fond smile Jim pulled Blair over to him and drunkenly put an arm around his shoulders. "I know. I just feel sort of empty lately." 

"How long have you felt that way? Why didn't you tell me?" Blair asked with concern, searching Jim's face with those impossibly blue eyes. 

"Have your eyes always been like that?" Jim asked touching Blair's cheek tenderly. 

"Man, you are sooo drunk. Focus, Jim," Blair said, pulling the hand down and holding it in his lap. "Don't try to change the subject. This could be important." 

"It doesn't have anything to do with my senses, Chief." 

"I didn't say that it did. Do you think that I only consider the sentinel stuff important? Shit, Jim. I thought we were past all that," Blair said with a small hurt voice. 

"I'm sorry," Jim said and pulled his hand away. "You probably can't help me with this anyway." He sunk the empty beer bottle into the sand in a neat line with the other ten or twelve he had emptied in the last two hours and turned to the nearly bare cooler behind him and pulled out another full one. 

"Do you think that maybe you're getting depressed?" Blair asked, not giving up. 

Jim shrugged and rolled a shoulder to relieve some of the tension in his neck. 

"Maybe you should talk to someone," Blair ventured cautiously. 

"I am talking to someone," Jim whispered, closing his eyes and drinking in the feel of the warm moist air that Blair exhaled with each breath. Letting it touch his face, feather soft as Blair leaned closer to better hear his softly spoken words. 

"I mean someone who knows about this kind of stuff. You know, a professional." 

"You're all I need," Jim sighed, the alcohol making it easy to let Blair inside the wall around his heart. The truth that even he wasn't consciously aware of, coming out at last. 

Blair swallowed. "Thanks, man." 

They sat without talking for a long time while Jim screwed up the nerve to ask for what he really needed. Blair watched the flames and waited patiently for Jim to talk, or not. His relaxed posture told Jim he was open to further discussion. 

"Maybe all I really need is some human contact," Jim said at last, glancing sideways at his friend to judge his reaction. 

"That might help," Blair agreed readily. "It's been forever since you've been on a date." 

Jim nodded, momentarily backing down from his brave pronouncement. He looked up as he heard laughter come from down the beach. His heart fell. "What's that girl's name? The one who was at the party?" he asked, recognizing the voice. 

"Allison?" 

"Yeah. Did you know she was going to be at the beach this weekend?" Jim asked, suddenly very curious about the situation. 

"No. But she knew that I was going to be here. I have a suspicion she might have followed me. By the way, her friend Diedra likes you," Blair said. "A lot." 

"Are you dating her?" Jim persisted, waving away the irrelevant notion of the other girl. 

"We've gone out a couple of times. Nothing serious. Why?" 

"They're coming," Jim sighed, pointing into the darkness past the fire with his beer bottle. 

"Great," Blair said with a mischievous grin. "Maybe I'll take Allison for a walk and you can get to know Diedra. Who knows, you two may hit it off. This could be just what the doctor ordered." 

Jim wanted to shout his disappointment, to scream at the intruders to go away. Instead he quietly finished his beer and sunk the empty into the sand with unnecessary force. Blair waved to the women as they appeared in the ring of firelight and made their way over. Jim frowned to himself at the prospect of getting to know the girl, but plastered on a smile as they sat on the log near by. He didn't want to disappoint Blair but all he could think was how much he adored that grin, and wished it was pointed at him instead of the women. 

They made small talk for half an hour before Blair suggested a walk to Allison, who readily agreed. They strolled off hand in hand, Blair winking over his shoulder at Jim as they passed. As soon as they were over the dune and out of sight, Jim heard them settle into the sand. Blair pointed out the constellations and the girl asked surprisingly intelligent questions for a while. Soon they were kissing. 

Jim tore his attention away from his Guide as Deidra straddled him suddenly, knocking him onto his back. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying," she accused with a laugh. 

It was true. Jim hadn't even been aware that she was talking. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" 

She bent forward to kiss him, her long brown hair falling around him in a curtain. He reached up and tangled his fingers in the curls, fascinated by them. Letting his lips go on autopilot, he sent his hearing back out to find Blair, whose breathing was harsh, and heart racing, two things that always kicked Jim into blessed protector overdrive. Jim's own breathing increased until somewhere in his drunken mind he realized that Blair was deep in the throes of passion. 

"That's it, baby," Deidra crooned. As he listened to the sex act just over the hill, Jim became aroused himself. The woman began to steadily rub his crotch as he listened to Blair's moans and mumbled words of encouragement and pleasure. 

Jim didn't want to eavesdrop on his friend, but he couldn't help himself. He tried to enjoy the lips on his as he fumbled with the buttons on Deidra's sweater. But time and time again, he found himself focusing on the action on the other side of the dune. Turning up his sense of smell, he found Blair's scent easily. It was mixed with the strange smell of the woman he was with, sweat, and latex. But the musky odor of his aroused partner made his cock throb, and he came in his jeans half a second after Blair did. Dropping his head back into the sand, he sighed luxuriously and fell into a blissful sleep. 

"Damn it," muttered the frustrated, half dressed woman on top of him as she slugged him in the chest. 

* * *

Blair said goodnight and kissed Allison one more time before bending to take care of his passed out buddy laid out on the beach. 

"Your friend is a dud," Deidra told him harshly. 

"He's just really drunk," Blair explained. "We're gonna see you tomorrow night, right?" 

"I don't know. I'll think about it," the disappointed girl pouted. 

"We will," Allison said. She pulled her friend along the beach and Blair waved at them with a smile. 

"Ok, big guy. Let's get you to bed," Blair said as he patted Jim on the face. 

"Blair?" Jim said immediately, responding to the closeness of his Guide. 

"Come on, help me out here, Jim," Blair instructed. "Up and at 'em." 

Jim struggled to comply and held on tightly as Blair wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his feet. "We've got a big mess to clean up in the morning," Blair said conversationally noting the debris from the party in the light of the dying fire. 

Grabbing Blair into a bear hug, Jim refused to let go or move, swaying slightly in Blair's embrace. 

"This is nice, man. But I'm ready for bed," Blair informed him. "Yo. Jim, you awake? Let's go to the house." 

Jim broke off the hug and held Blair at arms length for a minute, studying him intently. "You're so beautiful," he slurred as he clumsily brushed the sand out of Blair's hair. "I don't know what I did to deserve you." 

"Yeah, man. I love you, too," Blair said with a laugh. "Let's go. One foot in front of the other. That's it." 

Blair continued to cajole and encourage one step at a time, with Jim leaning heavily on him all the way up the path. Several times they had to stop to rest, Jim becoming more and more affectionate as they neared the house. Blair cackled as he pulled Jim's wandering hand off of his ass. "You're never gonna live this down, man. I've never even imagined you this drunk. This is gonna be worth a ton of blackmail. Not that you'd ever believe me, 'cause I don't think you're going to remember a whole lot of this tomorrow," he teased. 

They stopped just below the porch to finish dusting off the sand, Blair doing all of the work, then cautiously proceeded up the steps. They made their way to the small downstairs bedroom, as quietly as was possible with a snockered sentinel who was shushing crickets half a mile away. Blair sat Jim on the edge of the full size bed and pulled off his shirt, while Jim tried hard to return the favor, but Blair slipped easily out of his grasp. Next he removed Jim's shoes and socks before pushing him to lie flat on the bed to undo his pants. With a wrinkle of his nose, Blair figured out why Jim's new friend was so upset. 

"Oh, Jim," he said with a grin. "You're going to hate yourself tomorrow." 

Struggling to relieve the big detective of his pants, Blair elected to leave his somewhat soiled boxers in place. "Just stay on your own side of the bed," he advised his now snoring friend as he pulled him around to lie straight in the bed and covered him up. He slipped into the private bathroom and cleaned himself up a little before crawling into the bed himself and quickly going to sleep. 

* * *

Jim woke with a full bladder nagging at him. He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, hoping the position change would ease the call of nature. No such luck. He sat up and rubbed his head while he waited for the world to right itself. His underwear felt stiff and uncomfortable as he stumbled into the bathroom so he leaned against the wall for a minute to remove them, dropping them in the doorway. Feeling much better he completed his mission and somehow managed to find his way back to the bed. As he slipped between the sheets, he reveled in the feel of the soft cotton on his bare body. Rolling onto his side, he snuggled up to the warm lump already in the bed, throwing an arm around it and immediately going back to sleep. Drunken dreams of blue eyes and curly hair played in his head. 

The next time he woke, he was spooned up next to Blair with the covers pushed almost off of the bed, their shared body heat warming them nicely. The room was still dark and silent. Jim realized with a guilty start that he was cupping Blair's private parts in his hand. Blair's scent almost overwhelmed him and he nearly lost himself in it. He could still smell the woman on him, but the lingering smell of Blair's ejaculation was driving him crazy. He had smelled it a time or two before when Blair had come home from a date, but then it was quickly shut down in deference to Blair's privacy. But since he had vicariously enjoyed the whole encounter on the beach, Jim found himself unable to filter out the smell of it now. Without intention or thought, he began to sensually squeeze and caress the slumbering man. Blair moaned as his organ responded to the tactile stimulation and began to fill with blood, but he didn't wake. 

Jim's heart hammered in his chest. He knew he was wrong to fondle his sleeping friend, but was hard pressed to stop himself. The unknown feeling of emptiness was replaced with a new sense of need. The need to touch and be touched. But only Blair could fill this need, he was certain of it. The need grew into a physical pain and Jim released his hold long enough to slide his hand down to Blair's thigh and up into the leg of his boxers so that he was in direct contact with the warm skin. Jim shook ever so slightly with the feeling of completeness that he found and closed his eyes as he continued to massage the now engorged genitals of his best friend. 

Suddenly Blair tensed and quickly began to lose the erection. "Jim?" came the soft, disbelieving exhalation. 

"Shhh," Jim pleaded, removing his hand. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Shhh. Please." Jim kissed Blair's shoulder and tenderly began to explore his chest and stomach with the guilty hand. 

"You're drunk," Blair offered, not pulling away, sensing Jim's raw need. 

"No. I need to touch you. I'm so empty." 

The honest, heart wrenching plea from the man who had never asked him for anything, tore at Blair. "How is this going to help?" he asked. 

"It is," came the soft reply. 

"I don't think you're in any shape to make a decision like this right now," Blair advised huskily as Jim nuzzled his hair before pulling it away to nibble on his neck. 

"I need you, Blair. You're the only thing that keeps me sane. Please," Jim entreated gently between soft kisses and bites. 

"No," Blair said and pulled out of Jim's hold. 

"I'll die without you," Jim sighed, releasing his friend. 

Blair sat up on the side of the bed and rubbed his hand over his face before turning to look at the Sentinel with confused eyes, not quite able to make out Jim's face in the dark. 

"Just tonight. Just let me touch you," Jim urged lightly tracing his fingertips over Blair's bare back. "I'll never bother you again. I promise." 

Blair mentally calculated the harm the requested encounter could cause to the friendship. Jim was drunk and lonely, but tomorrow he would in all likelihood retreat back to his shell, maybe deeper than ever before. Maybe completely out of reach. But Blair knew if he walked away at this moment Jim would feel abandoned, and the man already had serious issues on that front. Blair didn't even consider his own feelings. No time for that now. He'd have to think about it later. Besides, this was Jim --and he needed him. 

"Ok," Blair sighed and lay back down. "What do you want me to do?" he asked so low that he didn't know if even Jim would hear him past his thundering heartbeat, hoping that once Jim settled down, he would go back to sleep anyway. 

"Come for me," Jim answered as he pulled Blair back to rest against his chest. He slowly moved his hand down Blair's abdomen, dragging his nails slightly against the firm skin as he went, his breath hot on Blair's neck. This time he slipped his hand in through the top of Blair's shorts and swiftly found the now soft tissue. He began to work at it again, petting with patience and determination as he began to suckle Blair's ear lobe. 

Judging by the erection digging into his back, Blair realized that Jim wasn't going to stop until he completed his task. Making an honest effort to relax, Blair leaned back against Jim's chest and began to breathe deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Slowly he became hard again as Jim began a rhythmic stroking, reaching around him, almost as if masturbating. Jim moved his mouth to Blair's shoulder, biting and sucking the smooth skin in earnest, causing Blair to instinctively reach back to cup Jim's face with his hand. Jim reacted by lovingly kissing his palm and slipping his other arm under Blair and intertwining his fingers with those of Blair's free hand. 

Blair was astounded by the naturalness of the touch, enjoying himself almost against his will. He found himself moving, pushing and pulling against Jim's skillful grip and closed his eyes as air now tore in and out of his lungs. Jim's palms became sweaty as both of their bodies began to glisten with perspiration, making the hand slip easier back and forth. Jim quickened the pace and started to thrust against Blair's back, the gentle nips at his shoulder becoming more intense. A low moan escaped Blair's lips and he began to pant harder as he felt the lightheadedness that signaled the building climax. Rational thought fled and he gave himself up to the sensation. 

"Oh, yeah!" he exclaimed as he shot his load into Jim's eager hand, feeling the hot wetness spread across his back as Jim joined him with his own guttural moan. "Oh, man," he sighed a moment later. "You really are going to hate yourself in the morning." 

Jim released a shaky sigh as he moved his fingers through the sticky, hot substance in his hand. He breathed deeply and savored the salty smell, almost tasting it as it passed through his nose. He felt spent as he rubbed the substance into Blair's bare belly, feeling each hair as it became heavy with semen. "Why did you let me?" he choked out after he found his breath. 

Blair continued to breathe heavily himself. "Because you needed me," he answered simply. 

Jim nodded his understanding and drew Blair's sweat drenched body against his own. "Thank you," he sighed and drifted back to sleep. Blair lay awake and stared at the pale patch of moonlight that came through the only window in the small room, praying that neither Brown nor Rafe would stumble in on them as the cover lay on the floor. 

At the first rays of sun, Blair slipped out of Jim's embrace and out of the bed, finding the sheet and pulling it over his naked friend. Making his way to the bathroom, he picked up Jim's discarded boxers from the floor, folded them and placed them on top of Jim's bag. As he stepped into the shower, he wondered if Jim would even remember what he had done, vowing not to bring it up if he didn't. He dressed in the half-light and left the room to head down to the beach to clean up the area while it was still cool out. He decided he would let Jim sleep it off, and never mention it again. Much to his own surprise, he realized he would give just about anything for the encounter to mean something. However, he understood it for what it was --a drunken mistake on Jim's part. 

* * *

Jim stretched in the bed as he woke, feeling a little rough around the edges, but all in all better than he had in days. A stream of midmorning sun flashing through the window told him that he had slept a lot later than he had planned. Realizing he was naked, he sat up and looked around in confusion. Blair was gone, but a sensory sweep of the house located him in the kitchen with Rafe and Brown, talking quietly about their plans for the day. The smell of bacon frying filled the air, but Jim filtered it out as he noticed another odor. Sniffing his hand, he smelled semen. And not just his own. Thinking hard, he tried to remember what had happened last night, but couldn't remember much past being on the beach and throwing back beer after beer. There was a girl, maybe. And Blair. 

With a shake of his head, he rose slightly off balance from the bed and felt the full force of his hangover. Carefully, he bent to retrieve his missing shorts from his bag when he smelled it again. This time just his own, coming from the stiff boxers in his hand. He dug in the bag for another pair and went to take a shower. 

Feeling more human, he entered the kitchen to find Blair and Henri battling for room at the stove as they completed breakfast. Rafe looked up from using the phone and grinned at him. Jim reached between the two cooks to grab a piece of bacon. Blair slid over without looking at him. 

"I'll bet you feel like shit today," Brown said with a smirk. 

Jim shrugged as he chewed up the bacon and swallowed it. "I guess I have a little hangover," he admitted. 

"I can't believe Hairboy managed to get you to bed all by himself. You were drunk when I left at midnight, and I didn't hear you come in until after two. Who the hell were you shushing anyway?" 

"Shushing?" Jim asked, knotting his brow. "Shushing?" he asked again, this time to Blair. 

"Sit down, Jim. I'll make you a Bloody Mary," Blair offered, still not making direct eye contact. "Naomi says it's the best thing for a hangover." 

Jim did as he was instructed and watched his partner whip up the offered drink. 'Shushing?' 

"Good news!" Rafe said, hanging up the phone. "They had a cancellation. We can get a boat after all." 

"Cool," Blair grinned, sitting the drink down in front of Jim and pouring himself another cup of coffee. "Look out fish, here we come." 

"You guys can go without me," Jim said as he lowered his head to the table. "The last thing I need today is to be out on a boat." 

"Ok, I'll stay here with you," Blair said a little reluctantly. 

"Nah, you go on. Have fun. I'll read or something and hang out on the beach," Jim said thoughtfully. Much to his surprise, Blair gave in right away with a nod as he started putting the food on the table. 

* * *

Blair couldn't get out of the house fast enough, Jim mused as he flipped through a magazine while lounging on the couch. He wouldn't even look at him and had shied away from every touch. Something was up. Little flickers of memory teased at Jim like stills from a motion picture, along with what Blair would call sense memories. A sound. A smell. A touch. They couldn't mean what he thought they did. Even if he had given in to his recent urges, Blair never would have allowed it. Would he? What if he did and Jim had been so stinking drunk that he didn't remember the most important night of his life? Maybe he had tried and Blair had rebuffed him, or God forbid, he had forced himself on Blair. 

Jim dropped the magazine to the floor and covered his eyes with his arm. He sighed deeply. A hung over sentinel was a pitiful thing to behold. Especially one with a guilty conscience. He needed to talk to Blair, but his Guide was off fishing with the boys. Jim's head hurt, and his stomach burned, but the renewed ache in his heart was the worst part. Wishing he had never started on the beer last night he sat up and grabbed his cap, unable to sit still for another minute. Setting off without shoes, he slammed the door behind him and stood on the deck to decide which way the boat had headed once it left the marina. Picking a direction arbitrarily, or perhaps by instinct, he headed off down the beach. 

He turned down his sense of touch as the sand began to burn his feet in the mid afternoon sun. Slogging on, he scanned the horizon checking out each boat he saw. A little more than a mile from the beach house, he finally caught sight of the small charter boat rocking lazily about on the surf. He looked around briefly at the much more populated spot, as it was in front of a large, sea side hotel, and sank down to sit at the edge of the water. He piggybacked sight onto sound and took in his three friends on the back of the boat. None of them wore life jackets, and Brown and Rafe were both shirtless as they fished. Rafe appeared to be getting quite pink. 

"Idiots," Jim mumbled under his breath, thankful that at least Blair had the good sense to wear a shirt, as the sun out on the water could be brutal, although the cut off jeans negated any praise he might have given his guide. As if on cue, Blair settled his pole into the rack and pulled his shirt off over his head. "At least put on some sunscreen, Chief," Jim moaned to himself, relaxing as Blair proceeded to do just that. 

"Whoa! What happened to you?" Rafe all but shouted, turning Blair around and pulling his hair out of the way to look at his back. Brown joined in as well with a few colorful superlatives himself. Jim tensed as he leaned forward and squinted, trying his best to see what it was about Blair that had the detectives so excited. 

"What's wrong? What do you see?" a nervous sounding female voice asked from above Jim's head. 

He flinched and reluctantly brought his hearing and sight back to look up and see who was talking to him. "Uh, nothing," he muttered as he took in the ample woman in the skimpy swimsuit, thinking it needed another yard or so of fabric. 

"Is there a shark out there?" she asked anxiously as she held a hand over her brows to shield her eyes as she scanned the waves. 

"No. I don't think so," Jim offered gruffly and turned back toward the water as he readjusted his dials. 

"So how do you get a woman so excited that she chews you up that way?" Brown was asking. 

"Sorry, man. Trade secret," Blair snorted as he turned back to his fishing. 

"Come on, Sandburg. Share. At least give us your best line," Rafe insisted playfully. 

"I don't have to use lines," Blair jokingly boasted. "People are simply drawn to my natural charm." 

"Ain't that the truth," Jim agreed with an affectionate grin. 

"What?" the woman asked, once again causing pain in Jim's already abused head. 

"I wasn't talking to you ma'am," Jim answered tersely. 

She looked nervously up and down the beach before moving away a little, apparently deciding that he must be talking to himself. 

A plump, well-done child came plowing out of the surf, splashing water all over Jim just as he tried to focus back on the boat. "Hey!" Jim shouted. 

The kid stopped wide eyed and wiped at his snotty, sunburned nose with a wet but grubby finger. It was almost enough to turn Jim's already sensitive stomach. 

"Don't annoy the crazy person," the woman whispered as she collected the child and pulled him back to the blanket where she had been sitting. 

Jim watched them go and waited until they settled before tuning his senses back up, hoping against hope not to zone, as the fat kid might touch him with the booger finger. Taking a deep breath to clear his head of the unpleasant thought, he located the boat and zoomed in on it. 

"...then you say that you need directions," Brown was saying. "When she asked for what, you say 'the quickest way to get into your pants'." He laughed uproariously and Rafe chuckled. 

"That's so not cool," Blair groaned. "No wonder you couldn't ever get a date. How did you ever catch your wife?" 

"He got slapped a couple times with that line that's for sure," Rafe agreed. "Here's one: If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me." 

"That's lame, man," Blair laughed. "Wait a minute, isn't that a song?" 

The momma's boy padded through the sand and once again splashed Jim as he hit the water. Jim ignored him and continued to listen to his friends laughing and cutting up, wishing for the second time he hadn't had so much to drink last night, feeling like the school boy that got ditched. He wanted to be on the boat, fishing and hanging out with the boys. With Blair. 

"Come on, Hairboy, throw us a bone. If you don't give us a line," Brown threatened, grabbing Blair by the arm, "we're going to throw you overboard." 

Jim jumped to his feet without realizing it as his body went into blessed protector mode, ready to swim to the boat. He was ready to break Brown in half before he realized that A) Henri was kidding, B) Blair could take care of himself, and C) he couldn't possibly swim that far. Well, he probably could, but not in time to save his Guide from drowning or from sharks or... 

"Shark! Shark!" the rotund woman began shouting as she misinterpreted Jim's sudden interest in the water, running into the ocean to save her over baked baby boy. 

Jim winced from the roar of the people in the surf as they started to panic and fight their way to shore. He turned his hearing down, and watched to make sure that everyone made it safely to land before looking back toward the boat. Blair was fine. He was smiling and laughing, looking absolutely beautiful with the sun shining all around him, sparkling off the water. Jim sighed and headed back to the beach house, vowing to have a long talk with Blair as soon as he could get him alone. 

* * *

After rummaging around in the fridge and finding nothing that looked appetizing, Jim found himself back on the couch. Just as sleep teased at his throbbing head, someone trotted up the wooden steps out front and pounded on the front door. With a groan and a sigh, Jim sat up wearily, silently cursing Anheuser Busch and his own momentary weakness, and stumbled to the door. 

"Hi," Allison said, backing up a little at the scowl turned her way. "Is Blair here?" 

"No, he's fishing right now," Jim answered trying to tone down the sudden animosity he felt toward the slight woman. 

"Oh. Can you give him a message?" she asked, already backing towards the steps. 

"Sure," Jim said, trying to smile. Failing. 

"Tell him that we are off for tonight. We met some guys today and well..." she paused for a minute. "I mean, I really like Blair, but Deidra doesn't want to see you. Ever again," she said, sounding a little sorry about the situation. 

Jim actually smiled at that. One problem solved. He wouldn't have to pretend to be interested in Diedra again. "Sure, I'll tell him." 

Allison waved and started down the path, then turned. "Hey! Did you hear? There was a shark attack down at the beach today!" 

* * *

Jim woke from his nap grumpy, his head still hurting. He removed the earplugs, hoping that the noise outside the house had lessened in intensity. The alcohol hadn't done his senses any favors. He frowned slightly when he passed through the bedroom to the bathroom and noticed the bed he had already made up was stripped down to the mattress. He finished his business and followed his ears out the backdoor to the small laundry area under the carport. Blair was singing along with the radio and stuffing sheets into the already filling washing machine. Jim stood and watched, especially interested in the little dance that went with the song. 

"You've lost that lovin' feelin', oooh that lovin' feeling. You've lost that lovin' feelin'..." 

Jim cracked a smile as Blair just barely missed the high note while he added the detergent. 

"It's gone... gone.... gone.... and I caaan't gooo on.... ohohoh..." Blair continued to sing as he pulled his stinky tee shirt over his head and threw it in as well. 

A patch of red skin in the middle of his back drew Jim's eye. He reached out to touch it without giving a warning of any kind. As his cool hand skimmed the hot flesh, Blair let out a bleat of fright and bounced back into the washer. 

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Do you have to sneak up on me?" 

"Sorry," Jim grinned, not sorry at all. 

"No you're not," Blair glared. 

"I guess there's a reason you're an anthropologist and not a singer, huh?" Jim teased before his own words came back to haunt him. 

"If you're telling me not to quit my day job, you're a little late," Blair said, not unkindly, turning back to close the lid on the machine and turn off the radio. 

"God, Blair. That was a stupid thing to say. I'm so sorry." 

Blair shrugged, "It's a little hard to get used to the idea, I know. Don't worry about it." 

"You're burnt here," Jim said to change the subject, stroking his fingers lightly across the tender area of Blair's back. Blair froze in place, but didn't move away from the touch. 

"Yeah, I couldn't really reach that spot with the sunscreen. You should see Rafe, he's fried. Brown took him to the ER," Blair said with an 'I told him so' somewhere in his evil grin. 

"Maybe you should go too," Jim said, gauging the depth of the burn with his sensitive fingers. 

"No way, man. I've got some aloe lotion I'll put on it after I get a shower." 

"Right. How do you plan to do that when you couldn't reach that spot to put sunscreen on it to start with?" Jim asked. 

"I'll manage," Blair said shortly, lowering his eyes. "Did you hear? There was a shark spotted out in the water today," he asked suddenly, looking up again. 

"Yeah, I heard," Jim ground out. "By the way, Allison came by. She said that it's off for tonight. They're heading back to Cascade," he lied, not wanting to hurt Blair's feelings. Not wanting him to know how damned happy he was not to be going out with the girls tonight. 

"Oh," Blair said noncommittally. "Sorry it didn't work out between you and Deidra." 

"Honestly, I don't remember anything about what did or didn't work out last night," Jim confessed. 

Blair sighed, almost like he was relieved. "Oh," he said again. 

Jim swallowed. "What did happen last night?" he asked a little breathlessly, not just asking about the girl. 

"Um, I understand that you and Deidra were getting along and then you, um, went to sleep on her," Blair explained quietly. 

"Went to sleep?" Jim asked doubtfully. Blair nodded and glanced around for the quickest escape route. "That's it? I just went to sleep. That's why this girl is so upset she never wants to see me again?" 

"Deidra's upset?" Blair asked. "I mean she was pissed last night, but I thought she'd get over it." 

"Get over what? Tell me the truth, Sandburg. I'm a big boy. I can take it," Jim assured, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting just so that Blair couldn't slip past him and out of the carport. 

Blair mirrored Jim's stance unconsciously and leaned against the washer. He sighed once and ran a hand over his face before meeting Jim's eyes trying to decide how much of the truth he would actually tell. "You were making out and you creamed your jeans," he said at last. 

"Oh," Jim said, clearly not satisfied with the answer. "That's it?" 

"That's it." Blair held his gaze, but his heartbeat gave him away. 

"Why are you washing the sheets?" Jim asked skeptically. 

"There was sand in them," Blair answered coolly. "With your senses, and my sunburn, I thought it would be nice to have clean sheets." There. Reasonable. Plausible. A total lie. And Jim didn't buy a word of it. 

Trying to control his building anger at Blair's refusal to just tell him the truth, Jim ground his teeth for a minute. "Did I, uh, do something to you last night?" he asked straight out, boring into Blair's eyes with his own, daring him to lie again. 

Blair fell silent for a minute, once again dropping his eyes. He fingered the hair over his right shoulder for a minute before pulling it up and turning slightly so that Jim could see his neck. Jim gasped when he realized just what the detectives had been picking on Blair about out on the boat. Some detectives, he smirked to himself. Any idiot could see that the petite woman Blair had been with wouldn't have been able to make the marks on his neck and shoulder unless she had a detachable jaw. The purple bruises spoke of lust and passion, not only hickeys, but teeth marks as well. And try as he might, he couldn't think of a single position where a male would be in front of a female enough that she could, how did Brown put it? 'chew him up that way', at least not on the back of the shoulder. 

"I did that?" Jim asked, surprised by the anger in his voice. 

Blair looked at him, confusion evident in his stance, unsure of exactly why Jim was mad. He nodded, but didn't say anything. Wondering just what was going on in his partner's head, he decided to go for broke and tell him everything. Sink or swim time. "You, um, gave me a hand job," he stammered, relieved that the truth was out, although terrified of the consequences. 

"What?" Jim asked, a little stunned. Ok, so the flashes of that were real. It had really happened and wasn't just another dirty dream about his partner. "And you let me?" he asked a little harshly, unhappy in the extreme that he had acted on his impulses while he was drunk, before he could test the waters so to speak. What if he ruined everything? 

Blair, being the object of Jim's wrath on more than one occasion, took the question as an accusation. "I'm sorry," he said and pushed his way past Jim and out of the carport, heading down the beach at a dead run instead of going back into the house. 

Jim stood in the carport for several minutes, berating himself. It took everything he had, but he let Blair go. For now. He promised himself he would make it better later, he just didn't have a clue as to how. How did he tell his partner, his roommate of over three years, his Guide for Christ's sake that he was in love with him? Just because Blair had allowed his attentions last night didn't mean he was open for a physical relationship. If he pushed the issue, he just might lose Blair for good --and that simply was not an option. 

* * *

Blair ran as far as he could. Finally, winded but not ready to stop, he peered back over his shoulder. Jim was nowhere in sight, so he allowed himself to slow to a walk. He really needed to think, so many things had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Jim had opened up to him for the first time since the mess with Alex had started. Up until then, Blair had allowed himself a small hope that someday his relationship with Jim might blossom into something... else. After the bonding of their souls when Jim pulled him back from death itself, it seemed inevitable. But it had all ended when he had invited Jim 'into the water' of a new kind of relationship, based in the more spiritual plane. Jim had politely refused, making it clear he didn't want anything more from Blair than what they already had. 

Then, he and Allison had, against his better judgment, but he really had been very lonely he rationalized, gone from friends to lovers. But he had in a twisted way, actually done it for Jim, as Deidra had made it clear that she had a little sumpthin' for the big guy, if only she could get him alone. Although Jim was repressed in a lot of ways, hetero sex wasn't one of them. Blair just wanted to better Jim's chance of getting laid. It was a pretty selfless thing to do, all things considered. 

Never in his wildest dreams would Blair have thought that Jim was serious as he mauled him on the way back to the house that night. He had been like a demented octopus, grabbing and nuzzling, but all in a good way. Very affectionate. Like in the old days. The pre- dissertation debaucle days. The days when Jim trusted him and approved of him, and maybe even loved him a little in his own way. The days before Blair had taken everything that he was and flushed it down the proverbial toilet. All for Jim. All for naught. 

Blair had accepted the badge at the time. He had promised to go to the academy, to learn to fire a gun, to cut his hair, to become what Jim wanted him to be. He had accepted this as his fate, as the only way to stay close to Jim. But once again, one time too many actually, he had seen the look of betrayal on Jim's face. Heard the accusation: "And you let me?" The words echoed in his ears. Once again, it was all his fault. 

The sun had been sinking into the ocean as he ran away. Now the night was settled firmly against the beach, only the whiteness of the waves as they crested and the starlit sky gave contrast to the dark. The sun took its warmth as it left, and the sweat on Blair's body chilled him slightly as the sea breeze caressed his bare, sunburned back. He realized that he had run as far as he could. Not that there weren't miles of beach ahead of him, but a sudden and horrible clarity of what he must do turned him around. Back to the beach house. Back to Jim. No, not really. Not this time. Detective James Ellison had just lost himself a partner. Anything left to say was only a formality. 

* * *

Rafe and Brown had returned from the hospital, packed up their things and headed back to the city. LobsterBoy, as Brown had dubbed him, was in no mood to party, vacation, play, or otherwise hang out anywhere but home, but graciously told Jim to stay and enjoy what was left of the weekend with Blair. 

Jim had finished the laundry that Blair had started and made the beds, including the one upstairs. Just in case. He fixed dinner and sat at the table to wait. After an hour, he turned off the oven and put everything in the refrigerator. Blair had left in a pair of cutoffs. No shoes, no shirt, and his wallet was in the bedroom, so Jim knew he hadn't stopped anywhere to eat. 

Of all the hurt looks that he had ever seen on Blair's face, and God help him, he had personally been responsible for more of them than he cared to think about, the one in the carport had been the worst. It was a combination of disbelief and pain, and it had taken a while for Jim to realize what it meant. Blair thought that Jim was blaming him for the encounter the night before. And why not? Jim had acted, once again, like an ass. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Good thing Blair was forgiving. Jim decided he would apologize then tell Blair how he felt. He was tired of beating around the bush. He would just lay it out, it was too late to go back now anyway. Either Blair would laugh it off and gently decline as was his way, or he would admit to similar feelings, and everything would be ok. Or he would leave. 

Fear based response time. Shit. What if Blair left? What if he thought Jim was completely out of his mind, and walked out on him like he should have done a long time ago? What if he had forced himself on his unwilling partner? That thought left a cold spot right in his heart. Jim knew that he didn't deserve Blair. But as much as he didn't want to admit it sometimes, he needed him. And wanted him. Loved him. Love? Yeah, love. Jim loves Blair, he thought just as he heard his partner coming through the backdoor. 

"Why don't you get a shower while I warm up dinner," Jim said softly, breathing in the muskiness of the long run as Blair entered the kitchen. 

Blair glanced around. "Where is everybody?" he asked calmly. 

"Oh, uh, Henri took LobsterBoy home," Jim answered, turning around to make eye contact for the first time. Instead of the hurt expression, he saw strength, resolve. And it scared him. "Go on," he urged, turning back to the stove to reheat the food. 

Without a reply, Blair went into the bedroom and shut the door. Within a couple of minutes the shower came on. The usual bath time singing was ominously absent, drawing Jim to wait just outside the bedroom door after he had placed everything back in the oven. He soon found himself in the bedroom sitting on the bed. The aloe lotion that Blair had mentioned lay on the bed with a clean pair of boxers and a tee shirt. When the water stopped, Blair came out of the bathroom in a mist of steam, rubbing his hair with a towel. When he saw Jim he self-consciously lowered the towel and wrapped it around his waist. 

"We can talk after dinner, Jim," he said, clearly dismissing him. 

"Ok. Here. Let me rub some of this on your back before you get dressed," Jim offered, raising the bottle of lotion. 

Blair shrugged and turned around, allowing Jim access to his back. Jim warmed the lotion in his hands and smoothed it lovingly into the reddened area. He let his fingers slide over the soft, hot skin, moving ever outward, until the skin was cooler, not burnt, but he kept going until Blair tensed beneath his touch. 

"Sorry," he said and dropped his hands to his lap. The glare that Blair gave him when he turned around spoke volumes. "I guess what happened last night wasn't exactly consensual," he said softly. "We should probably go to the police department here and file a complaint." 

"No," Blair answered easily. "It was consensual. You asked me and I said ok." 

"Why?" Jim asked again, this time free of anger. His voice held a plea in its tone. 

"I was thinking about that on the beach," Blair sighed, sinking down to sit cross-legged on the floor, before finding a more modest position. 

"What did you come up with?" 

"You needed me. I did what I always do. I gave you what I thought you needed. You need a punching bag? I'm there for you, buddy. You need someone handy to take the blame? Me again. You need someone to get your rocks off in a drunken stupor? Hey, why the hell not?" Blair's soft voice belied the harshness of the words. "I gave you everything, Jim. I gave you my life, quite literally, I might add. I gave up my life. My work, my reputation, everything. You already had my mind, my heart, and my soul. My body was just the last thing. You've got it all now, man. Enjoy!" Blair stood up and dropped the towel, holding his hands away from his body, turning in a slow circle. 

"Stop it!" Jim shouted, grabbing the cutoffs from the floor and thrusting them into Blair's hands. 

"Trying to save my virtue?" Blair asked sarcastically. "You're about twelve years too late for that," he added quietly. "I'm no virgin in any sense of the word." 

Jim stared at him dumbfounded for a minute. He had never known. Never realized. Never bothered to ask. 

Blair smirked at him before stepping into the shorts and zipping up. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?" he asked, still in the low, gentle tone. 

"If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" Jim ventured carefully, hoping Blair would see through the attempt at levity for what it really was. He didn't. He stared scornfully. 

"I love you," Jim tried again, raising his eyes to meet Blair's still angry ones. 

"How do you mean?" Blair asked, putting his hands on his hips. 

"What do you mean how do I mean?" 

"According to Plato, there are four kinds of love. Storge, or love of family. Philia, brotherly love. Eros, sexual love. And Agape, the self sacrificing, eternal love. How do you love me, Jim? I need to know. Eros?" 

"No," Jim answered quickly. 

"Well," Blair said. "There we are." 

"Agape. That's the way I love you. Completely. I hope I die first, because I could never bear to lose you." 

Blair lost his hard expression and dropped to a knee in front of Jim and took his hands. "I think it's already too late," he pleaded, his voice becoming harsh with emotion. 

"I can change," Jim stated firmly, grabbing the hands as if they were the only things keeping him secured to the planet. 

"Jim, the best indicator of future behavior is past behavior." 

"No," Jim said and pulled Blair up to meet his lips, but Blair turned away, rising to his feet instead. 

"Somehow, this just feels pointless. As much as I want to believe you, I know you're going to hurt me again." 

"I won't," Jim promised, standing up and capturing Blair's face in his hands. He lowered his head and brushed his lips tenderly across Blair's soft, full ones. Blair sighed, but allowed his mouth to be claimed. Jim deepened the kiss and all the love and passion that he felt flowed through him, pouring out of his mouth and into Blair. 

Suddenly, the fire alarm went off. "Damn," Jim said, slowly releasing Blair from his grasp. 

"Dinner?" Blair asked. 

"Well, it would have been." They turned off the stove and opened the doors and windows to air the place out after removing the batteries from the smoke detector. 

Jim began to cough and rub his eyes. "Outside," Blair ordered, leading his Sentinel down to the beach, away from the irritating smoke. 

They sat on a dune and looked out over the ocean, side by side. "I love you, too," Blair said at last. 

"Which way do you love me?" Jim asked reaching out to caress a curl that fell across Blair's cheek. 

"All four," Blair answered seriously. "Each and every one." 

"Are you going to leave me?" The question was punctuated with a single tear. 

"I was." 

"You'll stay?" 

"If you'll have me. All of me. All or nothing," Blair said, eyeing Jim solemnly. 

"Why?" Jim asked softly. "What changed your mind?" 

Blair turned away as he answered. "We already had Storge and Philia love. I never questioned that. I have to admit, I've wondered a lot about Eros. But you picked Agape. I guess if you really love me that way, I can live with the occasional hurt." 

"Thank God!" Jim sighed and pulled Blair in for another kiss. This one harder, more passionate, unlike the way he had ever kissed another person, sharing his soul. 

At last they parted and Jim pulled Blair to sit between his legs and leaned him back against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around him. Blair sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm not going to the academy," he announced. 

"I know," Jim said. They sat for several long moments in an easy silence. "I've been thinking, you never turned your dissertation in. It wasn't your fault. I think we should sue Sid Graham and the university." 

Blair shrugged. "It doesn't matter." 

"It does matter." 

"I can't let you do that Jim. We already saw what will happen. It's not worth opening up that can of worms again. No." 

"We'll find a way. Maybe you could write another dissertation and turn it in after we rake Rainier over the coals. Then you could work with me as a consultant. A paid consultant." 

"Jim, I told the world that I was a fraud, man. It's hard to take back something like that," Blair smiled as he snuggled deeper into Jim's arms. 

"Yeah, but you only did it to protect the people you care about. I think the media would be very interested in the reasons you did it. Even if we still deny the Sentinel stuff. I mean, what about Alex. She proves that you weren't wrong." 

"You may be on to something," Blair said thoughtfully, biting his lip and staring off into the dark of the water below. He was quiet for a long time then laughed abruptly. "You should have seen your face when I told you that I'd been with another man," he said. 

"I was surprised," Jim admitted carefully. 

"It doesn't matter to you?" Blair asked, turning in Jim's arms to look at his face. 

"No. I'm glad at least one of us knows what to do," Jim said with a shy smile. 

Blair grinned and turned back to face the water. 

"What do we do now?" Jim asked huskily. 

Pulling out of Jim's embrace, Blair stood and turned to face him. "I know what I want to do," he said seductively, unzipping the cutoffs that Jim knew didn't have anything under them. 

Jim's respirations got faster and he felt a tug at his own shorts from the inside. "What?" he asked breathlessly as Blair dropped his shorts to his ankles. 

"Take a swim," Blair laughed, turning on his heel and racing down toward the ocean, his firm, white butt bobbing in the moonlight. 

"Right," Jim said as he stood and shucked his own clothes. "Watch out for sharks!" he warned as he raced down to the water, humming the theme to Jaws as he plunged into the cold water after his partner 

The End. 

* * *

End If I Said. by Kikkimax: Kikkimax@aol.com

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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